On The Wings of an Angel
by Elfstone
Summary: The story of Arcane, the Jedi bounty hunter *incomplete*


On The Wings of an Angel In his suite in the Imperial Palace, Luke struggled against the sheets of his bed. His face twisted with signs of his resistance to the invisible forces as he was sucked deeper into his dream. Around the Jedi Knight wafted the scent of familiar forests. A silver moon shone down on the glistening dew that covered the ground. Luke gazed out over the ridge on which he stood, trying to remember the name of this backwater planet. Forests gave way to grasslands, intruded upon only by flowing rivers; and, hardly visible, a deep blue vastness that was a night covered dune range. The Force rippled a bit, and Luke turned his sense enhancing abilities behind him. Feeling a presence there, Skywalker spun around. Standing atop a nearby boulder, a dark figure blotted out the twin of the silver moon. As Luke probed the figure with the Force, he shivered. An unmistakable blackness emanated from the horned figure. The dark side is strong with this one, Luke thought. As he continued to peer into the dark Jedi's psyche, he stumbled across a spark deep within the other. So brilliant it was, that Luke blinked as if warding off physical blindness. The figure shrank back, shaking his head. You lie, a voice rasped into Luke's mind. The dark Jedi stood upright once more, and deftly leapt off his perch. He circled Luke, looking him up and down. Jedi Skywalker held his ground, not turning as the figure moved behind him. When the black shape came back into Luke's vision, the light of the moons played across his visage. The figure was wearing a black cloak, with an alien suit of armor underneath. Around his belt hung a variety of weapons, ranging from a blaster, to grenades, to vibro-knives, and more. One particular weapon caught Luke's attention. A lightsaber. Luke's eyes darted up to where the Jedi's eyes should have been, but found only the reflection of himself in his visor. Long braids hung out from under the helmet, and Luke saw what he had mistaken for natural horns were actually those of a Devaronian mounted onto the helmet that covered the entire head of the figure, save the mouth. A jagged scar ran along the right corner of his jaw; perhaps a lesson on what would happen if this person were not careful behind such a mask. The figure stopped his pacing cycle and stood before Luke. You lie, the voice repeated, a bit blurred this time. It was almost as if two voices spoke at once out of the one. The dark Jedi raised a hand, and Luke felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. His legs buckled under him, and he fell. As he lay on the wet ground, he felt the figure flip him over and begin to tie his hands  
  
together. It seemed Luke could do nothing, and this sense of helplessness angered him. Thus being so, he ran through some Jedi exercises to calm himself. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to pain. Pain leads to suffering. The words of Luke's beloved trainer rang through his head so clearly, he was sure Yoda stood over him. As his vision began to clear, he strained against his ropes to find the smallish Jedi's spirit. It was then Luke realized his ropes were not ropes at all, but the sheets on his bed, the dew on the grass his sweat staining his blankets, the soft mud only his mattress. A sense of calm ran through him, though a foreboding remained. That was no dream. Luke thought. 'That was a possibility of the future. The thought chilled him, and he pulled his moist blankets tightly around himself.  
  
Later, that same night...  
  
Daniel had been here before. When, how, or even where 'here' was he wasn't sure of. He knew her, though. She who shared his intent gaze; she who was the focus of his attention. They sat together on a piece of cloth. This, too, he knew. Where they sat was another matter entirely. On a tall hill, surrounded by lofty clouds, or on a small island in the midst of a rhythmic sea, the blanket could be their vehicle as they plummeted into oblivion for all he cared. He was with her. She turned from him to watch the sun float slowly down to the horizon. The hint of melancholy in her eyes aroused his desire to comfort her. A soothing breeze engaged her long opalescent hair, entangling it in a tantalizing game. How he longed to join in! Daniel stretched out his arm and drew her close to him. He knew her strength, and her softness surprised him. As the amber sky slowly turned scarlet, she smiled slightly. Closing her eyes contentedly, she rested her head on his shoulder. Bliss tingled through his body. Joy sent his mind reeling. He could think of nothing else than the goddess he embraced. The love he felt put him on a high incomparable to any he had felt before. Lovingly, he kissed her forehead. His cold lips stole a portion of warmth from her skin. Slightly embarrassed, he slid his other arm across her stomach, resting his hand on her hip opposite him. Drawing her closer still, he moved his mouth near her ear in preparations to profess his love.  
  
"Cassandra-" He began. He felt her sigh, felt her cares melt away. The sound of her name, that single act of utterance brought light to the dourest crevices of his soul.  
  
Yet, before he could express his feelings, the wind changed. The once meek breeze now blew with a terrible fury. Abruptly, Cassandra straightened stiffly. The tranquility that once abided was now lost. Instinctively, Daniel released Cassandra from his hold and turned. Behind him yawned an inverted pit, a rip in the dimensions. The howling of the wind ebbed and mutated into fell voices that called for blood. Objects began to fall into the black hole that didn't belong in that place: Droids, tools, and even Jawas fell into the eternal peril. Daniel groaned. He felt Cassandra's body grow horribly cold next to him. A chill permeated the air all around. He whispered her name as he watched her severed head drift into oblivion. That, too, he remembered from a time long ago.  
  
The entity called Arcane awoke. The reoccurring dream never allowed him the deep natural sleep he desired. From the corner of his room, R2-S5's blue light flipped on followed by a series of beeps and blips. Another day had begun. Groggily, Daniel rolled out of bed. He hit the floor with a THUD, and reached under his cot for the data pad he had laid there the night before. After a few moments of rummaging through the mass of electronics, he found what he sought. Rising from the floor, he called to his astromech droid. "C'mere, R2-S5. Let's finish your new personality." The little droid had been his only companion for so long, Daniel actually felt a pang of remorse for basically deleting the droids very being. "But this new field of work calls for such changes." He said more to himself than to the droid. Arcane quickly rebuked himself. Pity? Remorse? Both emotions. Both useless. He wished he could change his psyche as easily as he changed the droid. "But where's the fun in that, eh?" He asked himself sarcastically. The little droid obediently rolled over to him, and he plugged in the data pad. Tappity-Tap. Tap-Tap-Tappity-Tap. Daniel's fingers were a blur as they flew over the keypad. After a while of ceaseless programming, Arcane sat back. "There, S5. Reboot." The droids lights flickered and blinked out as it powered down. Moments later, it blinked back into life. R2-S5 expelled a series of beeps. "Huh," said Daniel. "Your visor light should have changed colour." The droid beeped in response. Daniel ignored the little astromech droid as he walked into another room of his ship. "Come on, S5. Time to train."  
  
Luke sat in the corner of his room, deep in a trance. His dream the previous night had disturbed him. He couldn't make any sense of it: Was it an omen? Some sort of message he couldn't decipher? Nothing about it made sense. A sudden inspiration came to Luke. 'The entire dream took place on Dathomir. I suppose I'll have to start there if I want to find anything.'  
  
Another shockwave of pain rushed through the body of Daniel Moross. With a cry that was partially pain but mostly aggravation, Moross gasped for breath. "Hit me again." he said to the droid standing near at hand. A hoarse whisper was all that was left of the human's usually deep voice. The astromech droid, R2-S5, waited in a droids equivalent of hesitation. "Do it!" Daniel rasped, literally hanging from the manacles that fettered him to the wall. The droid seemed to twitch as an electrical current ran through it. The light that served as an optical sensor shifted from its normal vivid blue to an emerald green. "So... now the...new program-... programming takes over..." Daniel croaked. He rebuked himself mentally for sounding so much like a Tatooine Anooba. "Squee!" R2-S5 released a series of low sounding bleeps and beeps. Moross glanced at the monitor mounted on the back of the droid. He could hardly make out the letters on the translator. Guessing it was just the droid announcing he was ready for service, he commanded the droid once more. "Flip the switch, S5." Immediately the droid complied. Fingers of blue electricity tore through Daniel's body, causing him to convulse violently. Gritting his teeth, the human refused to display, at least vocally, the pain he felt. "Pain is but an emotion. Just another useless emotion. To attain victory, is to attain strength. To attain strength, is to eliminate emotions." Moross chanted his Mantra solemnly. After what seemed an eternity, the current ceased. Barely conscious, the human realized he was squeezing his eyes shut. He tried to open them, but to no avail. With a shiver, he drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Calling out to the power of the Force, he pulled himself into a trance.  
  
When he woke, it was to the prodding of his astromech droid. The optical sensor had returned to its normal blue tint. Shaking the fatigue he felt, Daniel Moross reached out with the force once more. Grasping the latches with his invisible appendages, he opened the locks that held him in his current position. He nearly fell to his knees in exhaustion, but regained enough balance before he hit the floor. Staggering into the makeshift mess hall of his starship  
  
'Archaic Angel', he pulled out a stone goblet. Filling it with a vivid yellow liquid, he quenched the terrible thirst that stung his throat. Moross stood before a table, feeling his strength return to him. His weariness seemed to melt away, just as all pretenses. He starred out a view port, reflecting upon the past. The stars reminded him of his first exhilarating escape from his home planet of Dathomir. He had uncovered a ship hidden rather cleverly, and after a long game of verbal sabacc, Daniel had won out over his opposition. Having fooled a man from 'beyond the stars' into inadvertently teaching him about modern technology, he had jumped away into freedom. After years of running shipments of rancor to certain dark syndicates, Moross had not only raised enough funds to buy his way into a secure business as a bounty hunter, but also established a bond of trust with those rancor-purchasing leaders. His dream had been accomplished. He had burned away his past, to rise from the ashes as the enigma known only as Arcane. Using his force sensitivity to pull in his prey, Arcane felt he might one day, if not presently, rival even the great Boba Fett. "Squee!" An electronic wail rose from behind Daniel, startling him back into the present reality. Turning, he saw the droid standing in the doorway. Arcane peered at the words as they scrolled across the monitor. MESSAGE FOR YOU. MARKED URGENT. IDENTITY OF SENDER AND OF SENDER'S LOCATION YET UNKNOWN. "Yet unknown?" he gazed quizzically at the stout droid. "No estimations? I thought I programmed you better than that." The droid didn't reply for a moment, and Daniel remembered the blue light was shining. He made yet another mental note to see if he couldn't fix his droid's inconsistency. Moross looked back at the monitor as more gray-green words began to scroll across the black screen. IT IS ESTIMATED THAT THE SENDER'S LOCATION IS IN THE DROMA SECTOR. "Droma sector," Arcane murmured to himself. "That's Imperial territory." He scratched his goatee thoughtfully. The Empire had fallen, the New Republic had been established, and it was a good time for bounty hunters. The Republic was desperate for word on their remaining enemies whereabouts, and all crime lords, major and minor, were racing to grab a hold of the underground of former Imperial territory. Without a word more to his droid servant, he shut it down with a flip of a switch. He stalked down to the cockpit of the starship that was once called 'Storm', by a man named Talon Karrde. Apparently, he was one of the more resourceful of the galaxies rogues. Daniel had felt uneasy about the ease with which he gained the craft, yet at the time he didn't  
  
have much of a choice. And all the years Moross had been in possession of it, not once had it failed him. This ship was as much a part of him as his left arm. Seating himself in the pilot's chair, Daniel Moross reviewed the 'Angels' message history. Indeed, the message was from the depths of Imperial space. Any that could have seen the hunter Arcane in that moment would have sworn they saw his eyes flash green with greed. This excursion could mean heaping piles of credits. Another fit of rage had over taken him. Daniel twitched slightly as he sat hunched in the pilot's chair of the Archaic Angel. Depression pulsed along his veins, as though a chemical in his heart were the cause of his unease. Nothing perked his interest. Nothing save one thing: I want to kill something. Death hung in front of him, the key to his happiness. Drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair, he ran through different things he knew he needed to do. I want to rip something apart. Sighing, he laid back his head. Whenever he had felt like this before, there had been some kind of remedy- if he could keep busy, he wouldn't continue feeling.empty. His arm jumped involuntarily into his lap. Daniel lifted his head and stared at the now limp appendage for a moment before the maniacal laughter sprang from his mouth. It was loud, but what did that matter? There was no one to hear him, no one to think him insane. Insane- what does it matter what they say, anyway? He would kill them with a blink of his eye. Then I can be happy, right? I just want to kill something. Let them mock me. It will only end in my triumph. They cause injustice, but will serve to fulfill my desires. He laughed again, but this time, instead of listening to the echoing silence that followed, he began to weep. One drop after another fell, and he buried his face in his hands. After a few moments he stopped. What in Vaders name am I doing? He wiped his face clean, and got up. Walking towards the hull of his ship, he thought I've got to become stronger. I need rest, but I cannot allow my body to grow weak. "R2! Get to the training room!" He called to his droid. "I'll need you to man the voltage again." The Archaic Angel soared through the vacuum of space, the events within her  
a secret to the rest of the galaxy. 


End file.
